


Brooding

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Boredom, Cock Cage, Cuffs, Finger Fucking, Human Trafficking, Kidnapping, M/M, Rape, Relationship Talks, Spanking, bit of pain, lots of sextoys, non consensual sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:55:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26159128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: Mycroft wants his brother to move out and he has no choice but to do so. Not long after he meets a guy at the hospital where he performs experiments. He invites him home and offers him a flatshare. He likes him.But Sherlock has special wishes regarding the sex. And of course, he wants to have sex with his new flatmate. Will he agree or will there be problems?
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	1. Chapter One

Sherlock was brooding. He was brooding since forever. He wondered why his damn sodding brother wanted him to move out. It was perfectly fine living with him. Mostly because he almost never was home. Sherlock smirked.  
And now he had told him he needed the place for himself. Probably only because he wanted his new boy-toy to move in.

Sherlock swore very inventively and muttered obscenities but it didn’t help. He had to move out. Meaning, he had to find himself a new place. But then he remembered the note his brother had given him this morning and which he had ignored until now.  
He pulled it out of the pocket of his well-worn blue dressing-gown and looked at it. It was an address, 221B Baker Street. He hummed. And then he read the name. Mrs Martha Hudson. He smiled because he remembered her. She was an old case of his. He had actually helped to get rid of her abusive husband. And he made it long-lasting.

And now she had a place for rent. Plus, Sherlock liked her. He sighed and stood. He changed into one of his bespoke suits and donned his Belstaff. He hailed a cab and rode over to Baker Street. She was very happy to see him again and chided him for not being in touch. He gently smiled at her. She probably would make him tea and bring cookies.

He looked around again and decided the place was perfect.

***

A week later he had moved in and left a happy brother behind. Sherlock wasn’t happy and not pleased at all. He was bored. Mrs Hudson was away to visit her sister and he was all alone. There wasn’t an experiment that needed his attention and there was no case. He worried his lips.

An hour later he couldn’t stand it anymore and he dashed outside and into a cab. He drove over to Bart’s and visited the morgue. Dr Hooper looked over her shoulder when he pushed the door open.

“Anything?” He just asked and she only shook her head. Slowly he sauntered closer looking around.

“No, Sherlock. Nothing.” She swallowed. She was always excited when he was here. He was so handsome, tall, and dark. And she thought she was in love with him.

“Can I assist you then? Please?” He had lowered his voice and stared into her eyes when asking. She started to sweat and the heat crept up.

“Yes, I guess?” Her throat was dry and tight but she waved him over. He placed his coat over a chair and got protection gear. And as soon as they worked together the tension was gone. She appreciated his skills and help and he was thankful she let him help.

“Would you like a coffee?” Sherlock didn’t even look up.

“Milk, two sugars. Thanks, Molly.” That was not how she had meant it but she went away to get it anyway. She knew him. A few minutes after she was gone the door opened again and two men entered the morgue.

“Sherlock, hallo. I hope we don't disturb?” Sherlock looked over his shoulder and his eyes came to rest on his colleague’s companion.

“Not at all, Mike. Come on in and show the good doctor around.” He smiled and so did Mike. From under his eyelashes, Sherlock kept watching the blond. He was nice to look at. He wasn’t tall but very muscular. He had strong thighs and broad shoulders and his hair was a mix of blond and grey. He also was a bit tanned, so he had recently returned from the battlefield. He probably had been sent home because there was also a cane on which he leant while listening to Mike.

“Can I borrow your phone, Mike?” Sherlock suddenly asked pulling off the gloves.

“Sorry, Sherlock, it’s in my office.” The blond got his out and offered it at once.

“Here, take mine.” Sherlock reached out for it, not looking at him.

“Thanks.” While typing he was already thinking.

“What you mean is take me.” He smiled and sent the text. He returned the phone and looked the man over. Then he let all his deductions rain over him rendering him speechless.

“Brilliant …” The man muttered looking up at him. Then he held out his hand.

“Watson, John Watson.” He smiled a bit shyly and Sherlock took his hand. Mike raised a brow. That was new.

“The address is 221B Baker Street, Dr Watson. Please meet me there at 7 pm to have a look at the place. I am sure we can come to an agreement regarding the rent.” He held his stare.

“What?” John was clueless and looked at Mike. Sherlock still held his hand.

“You still do look for a flatshare, John, don’t you?” Mike said.

“Yes? But how does he know?” John asked.

“I have absolutely no idea.” Sherlock once scratched over John’s pulse and at once he was back to him.

“I am looking forward to seeing you again.” Only then he let go of his hand and got dressed while dashing out. The coffee went over to Mike a few minutes later.


	2. Chapter Two

The next day found John looking at the door in 221B Baker Street. He was a bit out of breath since he had to walk all through Regent's Park. He was almost broke and couldn’t afford a cab. Right then one stopped by the curb and out climbed Sherlock.

“Dr Watson, good evening.” He quickly moved over and offered his hand. John took it at once and hopefully looked up.

“Good evening, Sherlock. Sorry, I didn’t get your proper name.” Sherlock shrugged.

“Never mind, I probably never said it. But it’s Holmes, Sherlock Holmes.” John smiled and followed him inside.

Upstairs he looked over chaos. Boxes, lab stuff, books and many other things were all over the place. But it was nice, John liked it. But would he be able to afford his part of the rent?  
Right then an older woman entered the flat and at once strode over to him.

“Oh, you are his flatmate then? Sherlock, why didn’t you tell me?” John cleared his throat.

“My name is John Watson. I am …” She took his hand and shook it.

“There is a second bedroom upstairs if you be needing two.” Then she looked over the place and then at Sherlock.

“What?” John murmured. He was a bit confused. Sherlock came a bit closer.

“Just pay what you can. I would like you to move in.”

“OK.” Sherlock smiled and John wondered if for once he had been lucky.

***

A week later he had moved in. Another week later he wondered if he had been lucky at all. His flatmate was eccentric and that was nicely spoken. On the other hand, he paid the lowest rent ever for a wonderful place right in the heart of London and had to stand back a bit.  
And he was a bit worried because he thought Sherlock didn’t eat and sleep enough.

One night he woke because he felt being watched. But he didn’t feel in danger. He slowly blinked his eyes open and found Sherlock sitting on his bed eyes glinting in the semi dark room. He shot up.

“Bloody hell! What are you doing in here?” His heart surely missed some beats.

“I am watching you sleep.” Sherlock replied.

“Do you mind?” He asked sounding absolutely serious.

“Do I mind?” John stared at him and sat up against the headrest.

“Well, yes, of course I do mind. You are in my bedroom, Sherlock. It’s not appropriate.” Sherlock snorted.

“This is the first time you woke.”

“What?” He smirked.

“I was getting curious. I never thought you the sexually adventurous type.”

“What?” Sherlock sighed.

“Would you like me to draw a picture?” John just shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” He quietly asked.

“I checked your browser history. I never would have thought, John.”

“I am not asking …” John replied shaking his head. He had blushed crimson and suddenly Sherlock sat by his side.

“You are an interesting man, John. I would like to further explore you. Sexually, I mean.” He breathed the last words into his hear and John completely stilled. He was tense and the urge to get away was bubbling up.

But then there was Sherlock’s large hand on his thigh using a bit of pressure to hold him down. It was also warm.

“I don’t think so, do you, John?” They locked eyes and John swallowed. He stayed put.

***

John hadn’t had sex since Afghanistan. It was months now and he was feeling lonely. Lonely and bored. Not that he minded a man in his bed but he would have never thought of Sherlock to show any interest in him. Him of all people.

“Talk to me, John. What would you like to do now? Hm?” Hot breath ghosted over John’s jaw and he swallowed.

“I …” He couldn’t get the words out. It was too embarrassing. Sherlock smiled.

“Tell me, John.” Very low voice. His long fingers moved further up his thigh and started to reach the danger-zone.

“I would like to be touched …” John barely got the words out and Sherlock pressed his palm flat on John’s groin.

“Aahhh!” John let out a loud groan and at once shut his mouth. Sherlock laughed.

“Control yourself, John. You don’t want to wake our landlady, do you?”

“No …” He shivered. Sherlock used one finger and scratched his nail over the bulge beneath John’s pyjama bottoms. He looked up at him and John bit his lips. He was panting already and Sherlock bathed in the power he held.

“Remember, John, I know what you fantasise about. So, just tell me what you want.” The pressure increased.

“Please, I … Sherlock, don’t … Just please?” John’s dominant hand came up and tried to shove Sherlock’s away but Sherlock wouldn’t have any of it.

“No, John.” He took his wrist and pressed it over his head against the wall. For a split-second John fought against the grip but then let go and relaxed. He let out a slow exhale.

“Please, just be with me …” He almost whispered the words and Sherlock smiled.

“Do you trust me?” The question made John look up again.

“To an extent, yes.” He answered honestly.

“Well.” Sherlock tilted his head and licked over his lips.

“Stay and don’t touch yourself.” He jumped out of bed and dashed downstairs.

John was rock hard but refrained from touching. He knew that Sherlock would know if he did. He was back very quickly and carried some things in his arms and hands. He dropped everything on the bed.

“Get out of your pants, John. Now.” John did what being told. He very much wanted to get off and he was on his way right now.

Sherlock smirked. He knew what John was hoping for. And he would make him wait and beg and suffer.

The moment John was completely naked Sherlock looked him over for minutes until John started to shift and twitch.

“Ask away as long as you can, John. We will be using the colours, by the way. You OK with that?” John looked up and swallowed. It was exactly what he had wanted to ask. He had wanted to ask for a safeword.

“It’s fine. Thank you, Sherlock.” His voice was quiet.

“I will use cuffs on you tonight. Give me a colour, please.” Sherlock held them in his hands already. John looked at them. They were padded leather cuffs and looked nice. Again, he swallowed.

“Green.” Sherlock nodded and stepped up. He buckled the cuffs around John’s wrists and ankles.

“Spread your arms, please.” John obeyed instantly and Sherlock was more than pleased. He circled John several times, stroked over his skin and watched him tremble. When he was done John was rock hard and leaking.  
Sherlock once pulled his testicles and made him jump but only a small noise came out.

“Well done, John.” He praised him and John closed his eyes.

“Thank you …” Roughly whispered only. Only then Sherlock used a thin rope around both his balls and cock to bind them.

“I want to take my time with you. I don’t want you to come too soon but I promise to let you. Later.” Sherlock move his palm over John’s flat stomach and felt the muscles twitch beneath his hand.

“Now lover your arms and turn around.” Slowly John turned and Sherlock cuffed his wrists on his back. He lost most of his tension right then. He took a soft leather blindfold and placed it over his eyes.

“Give me a colour, please.” He said while buckling it.

“Green.” Sherlock kept holding and touching John while moving him around. He pulled him off the bed, pressed lightly on his shoulders and John sank to his knees. His tongue poked out and Sherlock smiled.

“I would like you to suck my cock, John. The colour, please?” There was the tongue again.

“Green.” It sounded rather rough by then.

“Come closer then and get it.” Sherlock ordered. For a second John wasn’t sure what to do but then he carefully shuffled forward and felt with his nose and lips over Sherlock’s groin. His prick was showing clearly and John was able to smell the musky scent.  
His teeth pulled at the belt and managed to pull it out. He was strong and well-coordinated. He had some problems with the button though but finally made it. He was sweaty by then. A concentrated expression showed on his face when he took the zip and pulled.

Sherlock was quite sure that John’s knees must hurt by now. He showed patience he normally didn’t have. But this was worth it.

He was given a sigh of surprise when John found Sherlock wore no boxers. Sherlock wondered what John would do next. He did not give him any order on how to proceed; he just waited.

Surprisingly John moved his nose all over Sherlock’s cock and balls and it made his prick twitch and leak very quickly. He once moved his hips and John understood. He opened up wide and closed his lips around the head. At once there was some pressure but not too much and his tongue started to work.

He moved it deeper and deeper inside and Sherlock felt the heat and wetness of John’s mouth. He sucked and swallowed and bopped up and down on his prick. It was bloody amazing.

Sherlock knew he was above average and taking him deep down meant something. John didn’t even gag or choke once. The moment his breathing was cut off he started to swallow several times making Sherlock push hard and come.

Sherlock gushed down his throat in several long, hot spurts and John took it all and spilt nothing.

Sherlock’s mouth stood open and he stared down at John who had licked his lips and now knelt straight up waiting. Gently he placed his hand on his head and stroked.

“Excellent performance. You were brilliant.” John smiled.

***

John sucked him as if his life depended on it. His own pleasure was permanently present but he wasn’t able to come. His cock and balls hurt but not too much that he needed to safeword.

Sherlock tasted sweet, there was something like cacao and a little hint of tobacco and fruit. It was nice.

Now he knelt in the dark and felt Sherlock’s hand on his head. His thumb moved over his hair and he relaxed. He revelled in the praise and deeply enjoyed the feelings he had. It had been a long time ago since he had subbed for someone. And surely for no one as brilliant as Sherlock.

He wondered what was coming up next.

***

Sherlock wondered what John liked because he wanted to do something nice for him. He remembered what he had seen in John’s browser history. There were certain sites about Japanese bondage. Well, Sherlock didn’t know about Japanese specials but he knew how to use a rope and tease his sub.

“Get up, please.” John slowly stood and just waited. Sherlock took some lengths of rope and started to tie a harness around John’s chest. It went over and beneath his nipples. Sherlock also replaced the cuffs around his wrists with more ropes. Finally, his hands touched his elbows and his arms were tied together.

John was completely relaxed and Sherlock was in awe. This was something special and he knew it. He lowered his head and took one nipple between his teeth. John’s lips opened and he moaned quietly. Sherlock licked and sucked until it stood out. And then he clamped it.

“Tell me your colour now, John.” Sherlock said while John swayed on the spot when the second clamp was attached.

“Green.” Sherlock had thought so. He led him towards the bed and made him kneel again. He tied his calves to his legs and pulled his thighs apart. The ropes led from his knees to the sides of his bed.

“Lower your head, John, and don’t forget how to safeword.” John did as being told and then it became cold between his cheeks. He held his position while Sherlock lubed him up and patted his cheeks. Then something nudged at his hole and was slowly pushed inside. John groaned and wasn’t able to hold it back. The sensation after such a long time was alien and it burnt; it hurt. But he knew that this was Sherlock and Sherlock would make it good for him. And just to let him know he gave him the colour.

“Green.” Sherlock smiled and caressed his back. Soon the dildo stuck all the way inside John and was attached to the ropes.

“I don’t want to hear a noise when I switch it on. Do you think you can manage?” John shook his head. He just knew he couldn’t. He only knew his cock would implode any second now. If the fucking thing in his backside was going to start moving, he would be lost.

Sherlock chose a ball-gag and pulled John up again.

“Here you go. Open up.” The gag got shoved behind his teeth and Sherlock buckled it tight. John groaned and he relaxed. He soon started to drool.

Sherlock was very hard all over again. He couldn’t resist and pecked a kiss on his temple. John almost toppled over and made a whining noise. His body shook and Sherlock almost got off again. Instead he soothed him and stroked over his skin.

“You are wonderful, John. So beautiful for me, so obedient. You are perfect, John.” He whispered the praise and heard the noises John made.

“I guess you are still going with green then?” He asked and John nodded.

“If you need me to stop for whatever reason just cross your fingers. Nod if you heard me and understood what I have said.” John nodded.

Then Sherlock switched the dildo on. It started to vibrate and rotate over his prostate at once. It switched from slow to quick and had several patterns that drove John mad in seconds. Sherlock just watched him shake and tremble.

Once and again he slapped him somewhere or poked on his clamped nipples. Sherlock was convinced that if John wasn’t gagged, he would scream the place down.

***

A while later he checked his watch and his eyes widened. He had been domming John for hours. He worried his lips and felt for his pulse. It was racing.

He decided to let him come, perhaps several times were needed, and then help him clean up and to bed. He wasn’t sure what John needed afterwards except for the cleaning part and be there for him but probably he wanted to cuddle and be held.

He switched off the dildo and carefully pulled it out. He just threw it to the side and took off the rope around John’s cock and balls. John groaned loudly behind his gag and his teeth bit into it. Hard.

He hunched his shoulders and panted. He still tried to not let go, to not come, until Sherlock let him, until Sherlock told him to. His cock was a dark, angry red and he must hurt.

“Come for me, John.” Sherlock whispered into his hear and John came on the spot. He spurted a lot and then came again when Sherlock took off the clamps and the ropes around his legs.

He moaned and fell. Sherlock caught him and took both blindfold and gag off. His eyes were closed but his head lolled over the pillow.

“John, look at me.” Sherlock ordered and John very slowly blinked his eyes open. They weren’t focused.

“I need to clean you up a bit. Don’t fall asleep, do you hear me?” John made a sound that could or could not be a confirmation. But he was still awake when Sherlock returned with some warm and wet flannels. John clearly enjoyed the cleaning part and smiled dreamingly.

After Sherlock was done, he dropped the towels on the hardwood and tried to catch John’s eyes.

“Talk to me, John.” He quietly ordered. John looked at him for a few seconds and then just held up his arms. It was an answer, too, and it made Sherlock smile.

This was rather new but being with John in his bed after a scene was very new, too. And he liked it. That’s why he toed off his shoes and climbed all dressed into bed.

John became very clingy and attached his body to Sherlock’s who just let him.


	3. Chapter Three

When John woke, he didn’t move. He could feel that Sherlock was still asleep. He looked over to the window. It was daylight already, so he must have slept for a few hours. And he still felt the tingling.  
God, Sherlock had been great domming him.

Only now John realised that Sherlock was still fully dressed in his suit and shirt only without the shoes. He smiled. He was happy. And then his stomach grumbled. Sherlock didn’t wake.  
John carefully moved out of his arms and got up. He kept sleeping and John pulled up the blanket for him.

He went into the bath and had a look into the mirror. He had some very light rope burns and his cock was very tender but the overall feeling was just great. He smiled at himself and then brushed his teeth. He took some comfy clothes from upstairs and slumped into the kitchen. He was exhausted but he had worse.

He checked the fridge and found some supplies for a good breakfast. He started to prepare a full English and switched on the kitchen-radio he had planted there. Slowly he started to sway his hips and quietly sang along.

Suddenly there were two arms around his waist and a chin on his good shoulder.

“Hey …” John quietly said.

“John, I missed you …” Sherlock murmured. John turned his head.

“I am right here. I needed the loo and brush my teeth.” Sherlock hummed and walked away into the bath. When he returned, he only wore his dressing-gown and it was open. John sighed but it was a happy sigh.

Sherlock returned to his back and pressed his long body against his.

“Are you alright, John?” Sherlock asked sounding very serious.

“I am very, very green with everything.” John answered smiling. Sherlock pecked a kiss on his nape.

“You were wonderful, John. It was a very special experience and I …” There he stopped.

“And you what?” John asked turning halfway around.

“I wonder if you would like to do it again. I wonder why you submitted so easily.” John smiled and offered his lips. Sherlock gladly kissed him and then raised a questioning brow.

“You know, I never submitted easily to anyone. I always enjoyed sometime later but it never went that quick. It took good work and lots of time. Many partners, doms, weren’t inclined to invest that in a crippled sub. But with you it was different from the second one. And now that I know how you are as a dom, I will never leave your side.” Sherlock blushed a deep red and only stared at John. Then he cleared his throat. And then he cried.

John was a bit shocked and switched off the oven.

“Sherlock? What’s wrong? What did I say to upset you?” He carefully reached out and pulled him back into his arms. Sherlock sobbed and held him tight for a few minutes. And when he started to speak, he only spoke into John’s neck.

“It’s you, John. I always knew it. You are different. What you just said, it was wonderful. Everybody else just somehow thanked and left. I don’t know why.” John patted his back and handed over a Kleenex.

“Here, blow your nose and sit. I’ll get you a coffee.” Sherlock sat and watched John. He carefully sipped the hot fluid and handed the mug back.

“Don’t forget to talk to me, Sherlock.” John brought him another coffee and looked at him. Sherlock took small sips licking his lips.

“I never dommed someone inside my place. This was the first time I felt like it. It must be you, John. You are giving me certain feelings I still need to process.” John smiled. Then he stopped smiling.

“Where did you find willing subs then?” Sherlock blushed again and didn’t look at him.

“At the club.” He finally said. John looked clueless.

“What club? You sound as if I am supposed to know.” Sherlock still didn’t look up at him.

“The Diogenes. My brother’s club. It has a basement, playrooms and subs if you can pay for them.”

“It’s a bloody brothel?” John asked rather loudly and it made Sherlock smile again.

“Amongst other things, yes, it is a brothel catering for the very rich and perverted.” He snorted. John held his face.

“What we had, what we did, it was anything but perverted. It was beautiful and I loved every second of it. Everything you did to me was perfect. I consented.” Their eyes met again.

“I would like, no, I want to dom you again, John. I want to do more to you, experience you to the fullest extent. I want you to give yourself over to me. I want you to …” John just placed a finger on his lips and Sherlock’s eyes widened.

“You are a true master in hiding, aren’t you? Why haven’t you showed yourself earlier?”

“I wasn’t sure about you. I wasn’t able to read you properly. It was annoying. Normally I can read everyone. But not you, John. Never you. That’s why I turned to your computer to see what you look at. And was I surprised!” Now Sherlock smirked. He pulled John on his lap.

“I suggest we have breakfast and then we should talk.” John nodded his consent and Sherlock bit into his nape making him yelp.

“First I have to finish cooking, so let me up.” Now Sherlock caged him in and pressed his arms into his side.

“Let me up, what?” He roughly whispered into John’s ear and bit into the lobe. John moaned and shuddered.

“Sir, please let me up?” Sherlock quietly laughed and it sounded very, very smug.

“Nicely done, John. Now scuttle and prepare me mushy scrambled eggs!” He shoved him off his lap but John didn’t stumble. Instead, he glared at him. Sherlock smirked.

All the time he watched John prepare breakfast, he fantasised about what he would be doing. He very much wanted to collar him, inside the flat only, of course. He wanted to experiment with some pain given by a flogger and some light instruments. Perhaps a spanking would be nice, too. And of course, bondage, lots of bondage. He wanted to suspend him from the ceiling. He wanted to truss him up like a Christmas bird.

His cock came back up.

John realised in what state he was when bringing his eggs.

“Could you cover this, please?” He asked with a raised brow.

“Could you get rid of it?” Sherlock replied cheekily making John blush. But a second later he was bent over with one hand on the table and the other on Sherlock’s thigh. He dove right in and violently sucked and licked as fast as he could.

Sherlock was taken by surprise and just clung to the chair. His head was thrown back and he groaned. He wasn’t able to hold back.

“John, I …” Then it hit him and he shot up into John.

John licked him clean and no mess was made. He slowly got up and smirked. Then he just turned around and went to wash his hands. And if nothing had happened, he came back and sat down opposite of Sherlock and started to eat.

Sherlock still looked a bit dazed.

“Are you alright, Sherlock?” John asked.

“Huh.” Sherlock made a noise.

“Don’t you like your eggs?” John asked again making Sherlock look on his plate. He licked his lips and started to eat.

“It was unexpected.” He said between two mouthfuls.

“You asked for it.” John stated.

“I did, didn’t I?” He looked up again and saw John smiling. And he just had to reach out. John happily placed his hand into his and they kept sitting like this until John cleared the table. They sat on the sofa facing each other and leaning comfortably into the back of it.

“So, what do you expect of me?” John asked.

“I expect nothing. I only wish for many things. And even if you consented and then safeword I’d never mind.”

“What special kinks do you have and I don’t talk forced orgasms or some such nonsense.”

“You mean like knife-play, branding, and pony-play?” Sherlock asked looking horrified. John shrugged.

“It gives me nothing. I want to see my sub enjoy himself. I want to see him float. I don’t want to see him bleed and cry.”

“I will tell you my no-go’s then?” John looked at him and Sherlock smiled.

“Shoot.” John breathed deeply and then started.

“Faeces, blood, body-modification, waxing and sharing.” Sherlock just stared. He licked his lips.

“Let me assure you that I would never rent you out. If you agree you will be mine and only mine. Everything will stay inside. I am not playing outside so other people could watch.”

“We should go shopping to get toys. Toys only we have used.” John stated.

“Would you wear my collar inside?” Sherlock blurted out the question.

“Yes, I would.” Sherlock beamed at him.

“We’ll buy it tomorrow. Together.” They looked at each other and Sherlock tilted his head very slowly.

“Up for a scene again?” John nodded.

“Always words, please. And now that we have talked, add an honorific, if you please?” John swallowed.

“Yes, I am up for a scene, Sir.” Sherlock was pleased. He felt warm.

“Get down on your knees and fold your hands on your nape.” John knelt in seconds and assumed his position. Sherlock stood behind him and placed his palm flat on his head. He just waited. He wanted to see how patient John was.

It turned out John was very, very patient. He didn’t move; he didn’t twitch. He breathed contently and held his position.

“You are just perfect.” Sherlock whispered into his ear and kissed his temple. Only then he saw him shudder.

“Stand, please.” John got up but kept his hands where they were. Sherlock led him into his bedroom.

“Undress and get on your back on my bed, please.” John obeyed quickly and soon was on his back with lightly spread arms and legs. Sherlock shed his dressing-gown and John’s eyes widened, pupils dilated; his arousal obvious.

“Oh no, dear. No dessert for you.” Sherlock smirked and closed a blindfold over his eyes. He rolled John on his front and used lengths of rope to tie his arms and wrists, ankles, and thighs. He did a perfect hog-tie and even connected John’s toes to his wrists.  
It was a stress position for a normal person but here there was John’s shoulder to be considered. Sherlock knew he had to check his watch.

“Is your world still green, John?”

“It’s very black right now. Sir.” Sherlock raised his brow. And then he powerfully smacked John’s behind. He jerked and shouted.

“What was that?” He asked dangerously quiet.

“Green, Sir. Very green. I am sorry for being cheeky, Sir.” Sherlock saw him swallow and hummed his approval.

“You deserve a reward. I will gag you to help you being not cheeky to your dom. You wouldn’t want to annoy me any further, would you, John?”

“No, Sir, I wouldn’t. Thank you, Sir.” Sherlock knelt by his head and pressed a muzzle over John’s mouth. He rolled him on his side and started to poke on his hole.

John tried very hard to stay still and managed fairly well until Sherlock breached him. But he was muted successfully by the gag. Soon Sherlock had three fingers inside him rubbing over his prostate. He looked over John’s body and saw his fully erect cock.

“You are not allowed to come, John. Hold it. Keep it.” John groaned.

Sherlock stretched out his long body behind John and guided his cock into John. He did that very, very slowly and tortured him with it. Only when he was stuck to the hilt, he started to move his hips strongly and roughly. At the same time, he pinched and turned John’s nipples.

After a few minutes, he took the rope between wrists and toes away and John moaned. His body shook but his fingers weren’t crossed. Sherlock kept fucking him. He also touched his groin, his balls and cock. By then John cried but he didn’t come.

After more long minutes, he took off the gag and at once John started to pant. His whole body was sweaty and slippery. Sherlock loved it.

“The colour, John, please.” Sherlock once pushed roughly.

“Green, Sir …” It sounded a bit week already. Sherlock wasn’t used to John being weak and at once he started to worry.

“Isn’t it more a yellow?” He insisted and it took John a minute to answer him.

“Perhaps it’s a little yellow around the edges, Sir.” He whispered. Sherlock slung his arms around him and pressed him against his chest. He kissed his nape and just stroked over his body until John had calmed down again.

“Please, Sir …” It was that plea that made him come on the spot.

***

When the blinding white lights were gone and Sherlock was again able to see properly there were bruises on John’s body where his fingers had clawed into his skin. Very carefully he moved and also stroked his cock until he came with his permission whispered into his ear.

“I need to trust you with the colours, John. If you are weak or dizzy, you need to tell me, you need to stop me. If I’d hurt you …” He closed his eyes and placed his forehead against John’s back.

“I wanted to please you … So hard … Couldn’t stop …” John sighed and his voice slurred.

“It’s OK. Sleep now. Or do you need anything?” John shook his head and was gone in a second. Sherlock exhaled and closed his eyes, too. But he wasn’t able to sleep. He just nuzzled into John’s body after he had untied him and breathed his scent for hours.

***

John woke because his back was hot. He also was covered by a blanket. It was too warm and he tried to throw it off. Only then he realised it was Sherlock who held him close and he let go again.

“Please let me up. I need the loo.” He spoke into the dark.

“Tedious.” But the long arms disappeared. John slumped into the bath. He washed his hands and looked into the mirror. God, he looked very well shagged. Then he grinned. He grabbed his clothes on the way back and stood by Sherlock’s side of the bed.

“Would you like a drink?” Sherlock rolled around and looked up.

“Yes.” He nodded but didn’t get up.

“In here?” John asked.

“Yes, we don’t have to sleep in the bed. We could sit and talk or …” He cast his eyes. John wondered what was wrong.

“Cuddle.” John replied and left to get drinks. Sherlock’s eyes followed him when he left the room. He was walking funny and Sherlock smirked.

John returned with two tumblers. He walked again to get some nosh and climbed into the bed again. Sherlock pulled him close to his side and pulled up the blanket again. He was surprised about himself. He had never cuddled before. He was given his drink and then they clinked glasses.

“Are you hurt much?” Sherlock asked quietly swirling the amber fluid.

“I am sore. There are bruises where you sucked and held me. But it’s good. I liked everything. I was just overwhelmed. Mostly I was surprised that I reacted like I did.” Sherlock hummed.

“I was worried. Even now I am worried. I am wondering if I am doing this right. I mean I don’t clean you up, I don’t offer comfort, I …” John just shook his head.

“Shut up, Sherlock. Aftercare can be so many things. And right now, I got up and dressed and it’s all fine.”

“If you are missing anything, if you want me to do anything for you, you have to tell me. You know I am not good with …” John smiled and pecked a kiss on his jaw.

“You are just perfect with this. I am not missing a thing. Instead, you are giving me so much and I feel I am not enough …” John slowly shook his head and Sherlock just looked stunned.

“But John, I mean, you are here with me. No one ever stayed to do this …” John was clueless.

“Do what? Cuddle? Then they were stupid because this, with you, is just wonderful.” Sherlock relaxed.

“I’ll never let you go …” Sherlock sighed and a faint blush had crept over his cheekbones.

“You are simply adorable.” John looked at him while sipping his drink. The blush increased in its intensity.

“Stop it …” He weakly said. John shook his head.

“No. You need to hear it. Otherwise you will stop being so adorable. And I don’t want that!”

“You really mean that.” Suddenly he sat up and downed his drink. He pushed the empty glass back into John’s hand.

“Would you like another?” John asked making Sherlock’s brow raise up. But John didn’t move.

“We are still inside.” Sherlock said.

“The scene is over. Not outside. I mean it.” John was dead serious.

“But we are still inside. You agreed to inside.” Sherlock was stubborn.

“Perhaps I need to make myself clear. Another no-go is slave-play.” Sherlock paled.

“I never meant …” He cast his eyes and suddenly rolled out of bed. The door banged closed but a few seconds later he had returned with chocolate and the bottle. He dropped back on the bed.

“Please, accept my apology, John. Don’t be angry anymore.” He poured drinks.

“I am not angry …” John quietly said.

“Come closer, please?” Sherlock said and John happily obliged. He leant against Sherlock who embraced him. Both men sipped their drinks and it was good. And when Sherlock’s tumbler fell from his fingers because he had fallen asleep with his head on John’s shoulder, John just placed him on his back and huddled close to him.


	4. Chapter Four

The next morning body-hair was glued to their skin and both men didn’t like it. They had a shower together and applied a load of soapy foam on each other. Sherlock kept complaining until John just took his cock and got him off.

Sherlock was rendered speechless. John looked smug. Their eyes met and Sherlock pulled John into his arms and snogged him senseless. John came when Sherlock touched the place behind his balls.

Many minutes later they finally had breakfast and even Sherlock ate a full English one.

“What’s up today? Got any plans?” Sherlock shrugged.

“Not yet, no. Perhaps an experiment if Lestrade doesn’t call for help. What about you?”

“I really don’t feel like work. But I have to go for the afternoon shift. I’ll be back late.”

“I’ll be here and coddle you, John.” John smiled.

“You might even send a text to cheer me up.”

“I might be doing that alright.” They leant back into their chairs when it knocked on their door. A second later Lestrade entered and John offered him a coffee at once. Since they had met for the first time on a crime scene, they had gone to the pub several times to watch a game. They had instantly liked each other and Sherlock wasn't even jealous. He actually liked them being friends and he knew that Lestrade was a good man.

“Thanks, mate.” He stood leaning against the counter and Sherlock looked up at him.

“What is it?” He asked. Lestrade didn’t answer at once. Instead he gulped down some coffee.

“It’s a bloody mystery.” He muttered and placed the mug on the counter. Then he pulled some papers from his bag and handed them over to Sherlock.

“This is serious, Lestrade. It’ll need some time.” Greg nodded.

“I thought so. Just let me know, OK? Anything. Anything at all.” He sighed and emptied his mug. John was clueless but from their faces, the thing wasn’t good. Lestrade looked concerned and worried. Sherlock looked happy and more excited.

“I’ll call you.” He murmured and Lestrade looked at John.

“Looking good, John.” He smirked and made John blush a little.

“Bye-bye, Greg.” John waved with bent fingers and Greg left. Then he turned his attention to Sherlock.

“Do you need me to stay with you?” He asked and Sherlock looked up.

“I would, yes. But …” Sherlock slowly shook his head.

“But?” John asked.

“I wouldn’t have asked.”

“Why?” John tilted his head.

“Because of your work. It’s important to you. And if you are having too many days off …” He stopped talking.

“I wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t important. I believe I am needed. The look on your face after having read what Greg brought. It just told me something.”

“Am I getting obvious?” Sherlock smiled.

“To me, perhaps. So?” John straightened his body.

“I need you to stay with me. It might be dangerous.” He smiled a coy smile. John nodded.

“Very well. I’ll call in then.” He made the phone call and returned rather quickly.

“It’s settled. Now tell me. What was it that worried you?” John asked and stood by his side placing his palm on his shoulder.

“Read for yourself.” He held up the documents Greg had brought. John took them and read. Then he read them again.

“OK. This is hard. Very hard.” He sat back down on his chair. He had paled considerably so.

“We need to do some research. Let’s take both our computers and divide the topics. We are quicker than and time is of the essence.” John just nodded and stood.

The next few hours they spent on google searching for human trafficking and certain places in several parts of London. When John needed to get up and move his limps, he got his gun and started to clean it. Afterwards, he stretched and looked up. He saw Sherlock's brother Mycroft standing in their living room and almost suffered a stroke. He jumped and glared at him.

“He has been here for about half an hour already, John. Do keep up.” Sherlock chided.

“Jesus …” Mycroft smirked. He liked Sherlock's flatmate. He approved of him because he knew he would be good for Sherlock. The first thing he had done after Sherlock had told him about John was to check his army-files. He got very much surprised but let Sherlock do what he wanted. And he had been right. Since John had moved in with his brother, he had changed already. And now they were a couple. Mycroft kept looking at John tilting his head lightly.

“I was asking for tea.” John bowed.

“Forgive me, Mr British Government.” He made tea for them and placed Sherlock’s mug by his side. He smiled up at him. He carried Mycroft’s over and took his own.

“So? Checking in on us?” John asked. Mycroft nodded.

“Yes, DI Lestrade told me you have taken over and I wanted to see how it is going.” Sherlock looked up and his eyes slanted.

“No, you wanted to see if we were shagging. Admit it. You are jealous.” Mycroft examined the carpet while John choked on his tea.

“I am not jealous.” He finally answered.

“Go and take Lestrade. He likes you and would spread his legs for you, brother-dear.” John just stared at Sherlock.

“Women spread their legs. Men lift their behinds, Sherlock.” The brothers stared at each other. John kept staring.

“Whatever.” Sherlock said.

“So?” Mycroft asked. John sipped his tea. Sherlock didn’t answer. Finally, Mycroft moved closer and it made Sherlock stand. John straightened in his chair.

“We are still doing research. Stop visiting and we will be done earlier.” He bit the words out.

“Anything?” He just asked. Sherlock looked over to John who shook his head.

“Just some thoughts, some ideas. Nothing substantial.” Mycroft finished his tea.

“Well, thanks for the tea. Call me, Sherlock.” He turned around and left. Sherlock visibly relaxed. John moved up to him.

“What the fuck was that all about?” He asked rubbing over Sherlock’s arm.

“He is under pressure. It was obvious.” They looked at each other and John could clearly see that Sherlock still was somehow upset; even though it wasn’t the right word.

“What you said before, did you really mean it?” John asked.

“What? Lestrade spreading his legs for my brother? Sure thing.” He shrugged.

“What makes you think he would?” John asked.

“My perfect observation skills, John. They have been dancing around each other for a very long time. Lestrade is fascinated by Mycroft and my brother is very attracted to him. I mean, Lestrade is a good-looking guy, isn’t he?” John didn’t look very amused.

“If you say so?” He turned away. Sherlock looked at his back.

“John?” He carefully asked.

“Hm?” John’s head hung low and he knew he was being stupid but he couldn’t help it.

“What’s wrong? What did I do?” Sherlock quietly asked.

“Nothing. It’s all fine.” John replied without looking at him.

“Well, it’s obviously not fine. Please, John? Look at me.” He made a step forward and only then John turned around.

“You look sad. Please talk to me because I don’t know how to make it better.” John swallowed.

“I am feeling stupid. I am sorry. It’s what you said about Greg.” Sherlock looked absolutely clueless.

“What does Lestrade have to do with it?” He asked.

“You just said he was a good-looking guy.” John only whispered. Sherlock kept staring.

“Oh!” It was everything he managed to get out. And then he smiled and just pulled John into his arms.

“You are stupid, John. But you have to admit he is good looking. But always remember who is here in my arms.” John pressed his face against Sherlock’s shirt.

“I am.” He said. Sherlock moved his hands down to John’s arse and squeezed.

“This is mine. I only want yours. Do you hear me?” He whispered into John’s ear.

“Yes, I hear you.” Now John looked up and smiled again. Sherlock lowered his head and kissed him tenderly. John melted into his arms and they kept kissing for a long time.

Finally, John pushed out of the embrace.

“We should continue researching. Otherwise, Mycroft will return and tell us off.” Sherlock snorted.

“I need to talk to some people. You can check online.” But John shook his head.

“No, I won’t let you run off all by yourself. This is too dangerous. I don’t want you out there alone.”

“I’ll be only talking to my homeless network. That’s not supposed to be dangerous.”

“No. I am coming with you.” Sherlock gave in.

“As you wish. Get ready then.”

***

John brought his gun he officially didn’t even have. Sherlock was glad he had John with him. They talked to several homeless men and women but couldn’t gain any relevant information. The only thing they knew was that several people, homeless people, had vanished just so.

Sherlock was very frustrated when coming back home. John wanted to soothe him but wasn’t able to. Sherlock was brooding and becoming rather aggressive.

John tried to touch him very gently but got pushed away. He was hurt, he really was. Wordlessly he grabbed his mug with tea and disappeared upstairs.

Just a minute later Sherlock followed him. He still was agitated and wrung his hands.

“I am not good with this. I didn’t want you to touch me because I wasn’t able to hold back. I am sorry.” He cast his eyes and turned around again.

“It just hurt …” John roughly whispered. Sherlock stopped and turned back around.

“That’s what I wanted to avoid.” Sherlock replied.

“Come here, please?” John said and Sherlock slowly came closer. John pointed to his side and Sherlock sat down. John reached out for him again and Sherlock let himself be pulled close.

“I am sorry …” Sherlock whispered.

“Are we good?” He asked a few seconds later. John pecked a kiss on his hair.

“Yes, we are good.” They sat like that for a while until John’s stomach rumbled. He blushed a bit but Sherlock grinned.

“Again? Really?” But he stood and pulled John up with him.

“I am a simple human being unlike you, love.” Sherlock beamed at him and then took his hand pulling him downstairs.

“I will feed you now.” He pushed John onto the sofa.

“What?” John asked.

“You are hungry. I will order your favourite and ask you to accept my apology.” John smiled.

“OK then. Please order. But you have to eat something, too. Some dumplings, perhaps?”

“Hm … OK. I know it pleases you.” John smiled broadly.

“You are right, I am happy when I get you to eat something. You can also eat the fortune cookies.” Sherlock just snorted.

“What else would help?” John asked. Sherlock tilted his head. Then he smirked. The expression on his face made John swallow.

“Oh…” Sherlock hummed and leant back in his kitchen chair. The Chinese was delivered and John got to the door and paid the delivery guy. They quickly ate directly out of the containers.

“Where are my cookies?” Sherlock asked and John handed them over. He took them and stood.

“Come along, John. Dessert time.” John quickly followed and watched Sherlock put the cookies into his nightstand.

“I believe I am here to help?” John said looking at him.

“Yes, you are. Plus, you are way too cheeky. Again. This is so not good.” Sherlock seriously replied.

“You may need to punish me. Sir.” John straightened his body and Sherlock slanted his eyes.

“Are you provoking me, John?” He quietly and also rather dangerously asked.

“Maybe?” John replied. Sherlock just pointed to the hardwood and John knelt. His arms came up and he folded his hands on his nape.

“Well, it seems I have been too soft. I believe a severe spanking is in order. You need to understand how to behave. Don't you think so, too?” Sherlock asked pushing his knees against John's back. This was John's way out. He could consent or safeword. Sherlock wondered what he would do. He had so far never punished him.

“Yes, Sir, I do.” He clearly said never losing his stance. Sherlock smiled. It seems, John looked forward to it. He scratched over his scalp and thought about how to do it. Then he made his decision.

He made him stand and told him to get naked. John quickly shed his clothes and when he was stark naked, his hands got folded back on his nape. Sherlock was very pleased and put a leather harness over his chest and shoulders. A collar got buckled around his neck and a thick leather belt reached down to the harness. His wrists got cuffed to the belt and like that his fingers touched the opposite arms.

Since Sherlock didn't want him to get too excited, he put his cock into a cage. It was a stainless-steel cage and a few more bars reached around his balls, too. Sherlock held up a lock for John to see and closed everything. Then he showed him the key and put it into his nightstand. John swallowed. They had bought it together after he had suggested to buy new things only they had used. Sherlock had actually thrown everything else away. That's why they had loads of new things ready to use.

“Sit on my deck-chair.” John quickly obeyed and sat down. He heard Sherlock rummage through his drawer. He stood behind him and two fingers forced his jaw open. At once John started to pant. His head was forced back and he looked up at Sherlock. What was he up to?

Sherlock dangled his boxers before John's eyes and saw them widen. He slowly stuffed them into his mouth and held them inside until he felt him relax. Only then he wound wide medical tape around his mouth covering his lower face from chin up to under his nose. For a few seconds, John closed his eyes and breathed steadily through his nose.

Only when their eyes met again Sherlock pulled him up and sat down with John placed over his lap. He adjusted everything as he liked it. One hand held John down and the other kneaded his cheeks for a while until he groaned.

“You know how to safeword?” Sherlock asked pressing on his hole. John twitched and groaned but also nodded.

“I am going to enjoy this.” Sherlock said and licked his lips. He lifted his arm and suddenly hard blows rained down on John's arse. Left, right, left, left, right, right, no pattern at all, just very powerful. Soon his skin was dark red and hot. Sherlock pushed his finger into his hole and the sounds coming from behind the heavy gag were interesting. He finger-fucked him with quick moves and let go again. Then he continued with the spanking. He alternated for about half an hour. And he only stopped when John slumped and started to cry.

He placed him on his knees between his long legs and removed the tape and boxers from his mouth. John breathed deeply with his eyes closed. His forehead rested on Sherlock's thighs.

“Colour, John?” Sherlock asked carding through his hair.

“Yellow...” He breathed out the word.

“Very good, John. Get back up again.” John slowly moved and placed himself back over Sherlock's lap. He rubbed over his abused cheeks and he groaned. They were still hot and red. Sherlock parted his cheeks and pushed two fingers into him. John made very wanton noises and panted again. Soon he also cried again. Sherlock stimulated him without mercy. He couldn't come with the cage on and he wriggled and desperately cried.

“I believe you won't provoke me again too soon?” Sherlock asked.

“No, Sir...” John sobbed out the words.

“I also believe you would like to get rid of the cage?”

“Yes, Sir, please...” More tears were shed.

“Will you bake me chocolate chip cookies if I set you free?” John stilled. A few seconds later he laughed wildly and his body shook, almost fell off Sherlock's lap. But he nodded.

“Yes, Sir, I will do that for you. Whatever you want...” Sherlock grinned and reached between his legs to get the lock off. The cage came off without a key and John knew he had been tricked. Sherlock gave him a few strokes before he continued finger-fucking him. It took him barely half a minute until John came. He held him when taking the leather off of his body and gently lowered him down.

John groaned and rolled on his side. He stayed on the hardwood when Sherlock stepped over him. He brought a warm, wet towel and cleaned John and the floor.

“Come on, John, you need to get into bed. But bathroom first. Go!” John slowly got up and slumped away. Sherlock heard the loo and the water run. He undressed in the meantime and put John to bed when he came back out. He only brushed his teeth and joined John who was almost asleep but tried to stay awake to wait for Sherlock.

Sherlock was a bit moved by that and pulled him close. John sighed and his eyes blinked.

“Sleep, John. I'll be right here.” Sherlock whispered and John slept. Sherlock kept watching him for a while, listened to his breathing and moved his nose over his skin where he could reach. This had been fantastic and he had enjoyed the spanking a lot. He smiled into the dark and closed his eyes.


	5. Chapter Five

Several days passed and John baked not only cookies but a cake, as well. Sherlock was happy and it showed. He wasn't brooding anymore and his mood was excellent.  
He kept working on that trafficking-case and visited several related crime-scenes with Lestrade. He found several traces and examined things under his microscope both at home and at Bart's.

John worked regularly at the clinic and when he had time off, he joined Sherlock. Sherlock took a lot of time to finally find a suitable suspect and he was very pleased. He called his brother first though because the suspect was a member of the British Parliament.

Mycroft appeared half an hour later at Baker Street and listened to everything Sherlock had to say.

“This all sounds very good to me, Sherlock. MP Bradley always behaved like a shadowy subject.”

“What will you be doing now?” Sherlock asked.

“I will have to alert the troops. I also need the evidence.” He held out his hand. Sherlock raised his brow.

“I am good enough to find you this evidence and now you are kicking me out?” Sherlock's eyes darkened.

“You called me, brother-mine. You know what I have to do.” Mycroft was serious.

“You will let me know when it's over?” He asked after a minute.

“Yes, of course. Now get back on some standard cases with Gregory, if you please? I believe, John also will be happy about a bit more of your attendance.” Now Sherlock glared at him.

“Did he complain to you, brother-dear?” He darkly asked.

“Surely not. But I have eyes and ears. He looks sad and probably feels mistreated, left behind. He doesn't speak a lot, does he?” Now Sherlock gnawed on his lips and thought about it. And he found his brother was right.

“Yes...” He sighed loudly and Mycroft stood.

“Then be good, brother-mine.” He took the file and left. Sherlock stayed in his armchair and gave it all a good thought.

***

John came home after a double-shift. He had been working a lot more shifts during the last days and weeks because Sherlock didn't pay him any attention at all anymore. Since Sherlock was on that case it had become worse and they didn't even have sex anymore. Sherlock didn't eat regularly and when John tried to make him eat, he was either ignored or yelled at. The moment John really became fed up with the situation, he moved upstairs into his old room and Sherlock didn't even notice because he wasn't using his bedroom anyway.

That's why John wasn't suspicious at all when he found the chaotic display. He just thought Sherlock couldn't be bothered to clean up after him and started to pick up old newspapers, a few books, and the tablet. But when he entered the kitchen and found plates and cutlery everywhere and partly broken, he raised a brow.

“Sherlock, what the hell have you done in here?” He called out but got no answer. Even parts of his lab equipment were destroyed. John began to feel a bit bad.  
He had a look in the bedroom but there everything was in order. The same in the bath. Finally, he went upstairs and into his room. He found the door forcefully opened and inside furniture was toppled over. There were blood-drops on both the hardwood and the bedding.

Only then John called Mycroft who came over at once joined by Greg and a special forensic team not belonging to Scotland Yard. They took over while John hid in Sherlock's bedroom. He had started to call it his bedroom after having returned into his old room. Now he sat on his desk-chair and remembered their good times.

He knew if something happened to Sherlock, he wouldn't survive it. He loved that man, the man who could dom him like no other. He angrily wiped over his eyes.

If only Sherlock would have told him more about the case, he would have helped and forgot about his job. But it had felt like being wiped away, put to the side, and ignored.

Outside Greg had settled down with a computer provided by Mycroft to follow CCTV around Baker Street. He needed about one hour to find something.

“Myc? Come here!” He called out at once. Together they stared at the display and saw a man entering 221B. It was early afternoon. About 20 twenty minutes later they saw him carrying a rolled carpet outside and stashing it in the trunk of a car.  
They looked at each other and Mycroft typed the number-plate into his mobile to get his people on it.

“We need to tell John.” Greg said looking up.

“And what do you think will happen then?” Mycroft asked.

“John loves him. He needs to know. And perhaps he could help instead of sitting here all alone.” Mycroft thought about it for a few seconds and then finally nodded his OK.

“You go and tell him. But also let him know that he needs to stay with you.” Now Greg looked a bit confused.

“And why is that?” He asked.

“Just because he might get a call. Then he will run off alone to save my brother. He would do anything to get him back, even bring evidence or tell them whatever they want to know.” But Greg shook his head.

“You underestimate our good doctor, Myc. He surely would do anything for Sherlock but he would never betray us. Never.” Greg was convinced and somehow it impressed Mycroft.

“Anyway. Don't let him out of your eyes, please.” Greg nodded and stood to tell John.

***

Sherlock had been surprised when the intruder came into his flat. He had fought him, of course, he had. He wasn't helpless. But that man was very skilled, probably an assassin. Sherlock had ended up throwing things at him but he only laughed. He had finally fled up into John's room because the impulse to be protected was strong.

Of course, John hadn't been home and he knew that but his feelings actually took over his brain. Mind over matter was over. Up there he was beaten up and pushed around until the man sat on his stomach and one-handedly held him down. He pressed two fingers on a certain pressure-point and Sherlock couldn't move anymore. But he could see and think. The man smirked down at him and then started to touch him. He didn't utter a single word while doing so.

Sherlock felt sick. Helpless and in pain. He screamed but he didn't.

Finally, the man let go and stood. He picked him up and threw him over his shoulder. Downstairs he rolled him into the carpet and it became dark. Sherlock was scared because he knew what he had been investigating. Human trafficking.

He felt being carried outside and placed into a transporter. The van rode away with him in the back.

***

John had listened to Greg and was shocked. Sherlock had been kidnapped. He also knew that this case had been about human trafficking and he paled thinking about the consequences.  
Greg assured him that Mycroft had alerted border control, every single airport and train station in Great Britain. But John wanted to do something, too. He wanted to help, so Mycroft had been right.

“John, listen to me. You need to stay with me in case these people call you. We can trace them. Always keep your mobile with you, do you understand?” Greg insisted.

“Greg, I am not stupid, you know? I know what you are doing.” Greg opened his eyes wide which normally helped. But not with John it did.

“And do not try the Bambi thing with me!” He poked him with his forefinger and Greg opened them even wider.

“I don't know what you are talking about.” John snorted.

“But you can bet, I will follow you like a magnet attached to your back.” Now Greg raised a brow and John just turned away.

“Wait, you need to look at CCTV. We have a suspect and perhaps you have seen him before.” John turned back to him.

“Show me at once.” Greg got the tablet and John had a look at the man carrying the carpet out of the building. He swallowed and pressed his palms flat on his face. He breathed in and out several times and closed his eyes. And he was thinking. His mind went over the last days at work. He also thought about the few occasions Sherlock had talked to him or had spent time with him outside. John hadn't been to crime scenes lately but they had been to Angelo's.

“No, Greg. I don't know that man. I can't remember...” He angrily shook his head.

“Don't try too hard, John. Let it go for now. Try again later.” Mycroft had joined them unnoticed and John looked up.

“Give me something to do. Just something?” He looked pleadingly up at him and Mycroft saw what Sherlock had seen in John. The urge to soothe this man was strong. He cast a quick look at Greg who just went away smiling.

“Sherlock handed over all his evidence to me. Did he talk to you about what he found out?” Mycroft asked.

“No, not anymore, not since I last joined him on a crime-scene. He invested more and more time and stopped talking to me at all. I worked a lot lately, did double-shifts. I even moved back into my old room upstairs. He wouldn't touch me anymore...” He very hard tried not to burst into tears and barely managed.

Mycroft knew his little brother. He must have found more than he had admitted, had given him. From what John described he was on a hunt and close to something. Too close, obviously.

“My forensics are upstairs. There are traces of blood and a fight probably happened. I strongly advise you to move into my brother's bedroom for the time being.” Mycroft suggested and John quickly agreed.

“Why was he upstairs anyway? He should have ran downstairs and outside.” John shook his head.

“He needed to get to you, he needed protection and he knows very well you could provide it. Even though he actually knew you weren't home, he ran towards you.” John swallowed looking at him.

“I should have been home. I should have insisted on being informed about his deductions.”

“This is not your fault, John.” Mycroft seriously said but John wouldn't listen.

“Yes, it is. I wasn't here when he needed my help. He was taken and God knows what is happening to him right now.” He gnawed on his lips.

“Myc?” Greg called out.

“Come on, John.” Mycroft pulled him up and they joined Greg.

“Did you find something?” John asked staring at him.

“Your troops found the transporter.” Greg sounded excited.

“Where exactly?” Mycroft asked.

“It was parked in a garage in Richmond. We are checking CCTV already. Forensics are on the way.” Greg replied. Mycroft mentally went through Sherlock's folder with evidence and searched for Richmond. There was nothing. They probably had simply just changed cars.

Upstairs the forensic team was done and came downstairs. Mycroft questioningly raised a brow.

“Bloodstains and a few broken items. Scratches on the hardwood, probably fingernails. Tiny elements of fabric. Loads of fingerprints both upstairs and down here. We'll check everything quickly. For now, we are done here.”

“Very good. Talk to the team in Richmond and compare what you have found. Use every database we have and don't have. It's on me if anyone even dares to ask.” The man just nodded and they all left. Suddenly 221B was rather quiet again.

***

Sherlock wasn't paralysed anymore but stuck inside the carpet. He had no chance to get out and only noticed the change of cars. Several hours passed by and he really needed to piss. But only his transport needed that and he still had control over it. He was sweaty though and rather thirsty. He wondered what these men would do to him. If they had wanted to kill him, they would have done so already and not taken him away.

Again, he thought about human trafficking. Would he vanish into some dark channels? Would he be sold to some perv on the other side of the world? Would he end up in front of a camera doing a snuff video? Or would he end up in a brothel being fucked several times daily? Sex slave? Slavery?

Sherlock started to panic. He thought about the evidence he had given his brother. He hadn't given everything because he wanted to stay on the case. Now he still was on the case, wasn't he? He had held something back, something relevant. Now he could only rely on his brother to find him.

He needed to stay alive. He must do what they asked of him. He wanted to see John again. He wanted to be with John again. He hated himself for having treated John so badly.

The van stopped and the carpet with Sherlock inside was pulled outside. There were voices and two pairs of hands carried him away. He got dropped on a hard surface, probably concrete, and he groaned. The carpet was rolled out and his body tumbled over the ground. It was hard and dirty.

“Look, what we've got here! Such a beauty!” A male voice with a strong Russian accent said. Sherlock wanted to get up but was knocked down from behind by someone he hadn't seen.

“Stay down where you belong! You are worth a lot; I can see it.” He came closer and licked his lips.

“Get him naked. I want to have a closer look.” Sherlock paled but didn't speak. He knew it was senseless. He also knew it was senseless to fight against them. He would only get hurt and he needed all his strength to survive this ordeal.  
The Russian left the room but the other man spoke up. He had a nondescript English accent.

“You can undress all by yourself or I will help you. Your decision.” They looked at each other and the man raised a brow.

Very slowly Sherlock shed his jacket and just dropped it on the ground. He toed off socks and shoes. The trousers were followed by his shirt. The man already looked greedy and licked his lips.

“Don't act shy, Mr Holmes. We know who you are.” He grinned and quietly laughed.

Sherlock hooked his fingers behind the hem of his boxers and pulled them down. He stepped out of them and stood there stark naked. The man walked around him but yet didn't touch. He stood close behind though. Sherlock could feel him breathe.

Then came the first order.

“Kneel!” He yelled into his ear. Sherlock was a dom and therefore didn't flinch. He simply knelt. He wanted to avoid any provocations.

“Hands on your nape!” The second order and Sherlock followed it. He walked around him again. His eyes focused on his groin.

“You soon will learn to enjoy this. Your new owner will want to see how much you like to be a slave.” He grinned and sent a text. Soon after the Russian returned and looked at him, too.

“Well, well, Mr Holmes. This looks very good.” He licked his lips and turned to the other man.

“Let's do it right away and not lose time. Get him over the rack. I will do it myself.” Sherlock closed his eyes. He was going to be raped, probably in front of a camera.

***

His hands were tied with handcuffs on his lower back and he was led into another room. There were cameras and lights all over the place. There was a huge bed with black latex bedding on top as well as many other things normally used in a BDSM club.

“You should fight a bit, you know? They like it when they fight.” The Russian laughed when a rack was arranged in front of the camera.

Sherlock was pushed between his shoulders and he stumbled forward.

“Face the camera.” Sherlock turned and directly looked into it. The red light was on already.

“Fuck you!” He spit it out and earnt another laughter.

“Go for it.” The other man jumped him and opened the handcuffs. They wanted him to fight, so he fought. He kicked, and hit, and lashed out but he was no martial art fighter or boxer. He was fit though and also very quick. He delivered quite the show until he was forced back on his knees with one arm bent up on his back and a fist in his hair. The position made it impossible to move without hurting himself. He panted and knew it was over.

His head was forced up and again he stared directly into the camera.

“This was all very nice but now we will start for real. Let's show our potential buyers more, shall we?” The Russian said.

Sherlock was pulled up and moved over the rack. His slim body hung over the leather-covered top. He was pressed down while his legs were pushed apart and his ankles tied to the rack's bottom. His arms were forced forward and his wrists were tied to the front. The whole thing was facing sideways into the camera but now a second man joined with a portable camera, as well, to get a good view from every angle and also much closer.

“I think, a beating is the first thing we show our audience. Welts and bruises will look fantastic on his marble white skin. Our princess here has only dished out up to today but never taken. This will change today.” Sherlock ground his teeth. The only thing he could be sure of was they wouldn't kill him. They wanted to sell him. They needed him alive. The longer he made it, the more time Mycroft had to find him.

They collared him and pulled a harness over his head. Something poked on his hole, something cold and metal. He tensed but soon just tried to relax or he would hurt himself. He knew what was coming and right he was. A bondage hook got inserted into his arse. He was tight because he never had bottomed for anyone. But he took it. The hook was connected to a d-ring on top of the head harness. The higher he lifted his head, the less pressure he felt inside his behind.

The man with the camera had zoomed in on his face while the bondage hook was forced into him.

“I happen to know that our clients also love them gagged.” Again, the Russian. The other man attached a rather huge ball-gag to the harness and forced it behind his teeth. He couldn't suppress a groan when he adjusted the strap below his chin. He instantly started to drool and the camera zoomed in some more.

During the next minutes, he screamed his lungs out when several blows were dished out by a riding-crop and a cane. His body shook and he cried. Snot and saliva ran over his chin and dropped on the ground. He also wasn't able to control his bladder anymore. He had held on for too long anyway but now with the beating, he had no choice. He pissed and the man with the camera filmed that, too. He sobbed and hated himself. He felt welts blooming and bruises forming. He also believed there was blood but he couldn't be sure.

They wouldn't want to damage him, leave scars on him, would they?

He had never done such a thing to a submissive of his. Never. He wasn't into blood, he wanted them to enjoy. Of course, he enjoyed a spanking or light blows with a flogger or a paddle, but never whips, canes or a riding-crop.

He jerked and screamed again when someone touched his cock and stroked it after he was done pissing. His body betrayed him, pleasure overtook pain and his erection grew. Now he blushed.

The Russian was very pleased when looking at the different angles. He rubbed his hands and calculated the sum he would get for the detective.

“OK, it's time now. Get the hook off.” It was rudely pulled out and at once there was a gloved finger penetrating his behind. Soon there were two and then three. He hurt. He felt raw. Soon there wouldn't be only fingers.

The Russian opened his zip in front of Sherlock and held his erect cock close to his eyes. He slowly stroked it and moved the head over Sherlock's cheeks. Pre-cum was smeared over his cheekbones. At least this didn't hurt.

He moved around him and lined up. Hands parted his cheeks and Sherlock mentally prepared for the intrusion. But whatever he had imagined beforehand, he couldn't be prepared for what happened then.

Fingernails raked over his back and he pushed into him. He screamed his lungs out. He was still too tight. He felt stuffed and his tender flesh was tormented. The pain was extreme. But he didn't lose his consciousness.

The man moved and pushed into him again and again while he also worked on his cock. He avoided his prostate though. He only dished out the pain. He came after a long time and only then Sherlock realised, he had been wearing a condom. He pulled out too fast and it hurt his sore flesh. Sherlock was only able to utter a quiet groan. He limply hung over the rack. His body was wet and sweaty. His hair was damp. The camera moved over and around his body.

“The last thing we will show is how he is enjoying this treatment. How perfect he will be as a sex-slave.” The Russian stepped away and the second man took over. He also used a condom; this time Sherlock was able to hear it being pulled over. His hands were on his hips when he lined up and pushed inside.

Sherlock was still wide and he quickly stuck in his behind. But now he rubbed over his prostate with every single move. He also stroked his cock very gently. Sherlock shook and groaned. Pleasure overwhelmed him. This was horrible, even more horrible than the things before. This was embarrassing, he felt ashamed and he hated it.

What if John would see this? See how he moaned and writhed in pleasure? How could he ever bottom for him again? He surely would leave instantly. Tears spilt and he sobbed.

The man made him come and he shot his cum all over the ground. He kept fucking him for a while longer until he came, as well.

The camera held on and zoomed on his hole, his thighs and finally into his face. His head was held up and he blearily stared into the camera.


	6. Chapter Six

John slept in Sherlock's bedroom while Greg was still busy with his tablet. He had stayed at 221B. Mycroft was back in his office coordinating the investigation. Anthea was scanning the darknet for auctions and human trafficking. It took her two days to stumble over the announcement. It was hidden very well but not for her it was.  
She swallowed when watching the film that had been made of Sherlock. They didn't mention his name but all the hints were clear enough. And if you were in a certain business, you knew your enemies. On that site though he was just a certain someone on sale for a rather large sum of a minimum amount of GBP 30.000. You could only bid online. The auction would end the next day at midnight.  
She tried to trace the IP. She tried everything. She got specialists to help. Then she went to see Mycroft Holmes. She walked over the aisle of the building in Whitehall and knocked on his door.

“Yes!” She entered and closed the door. She slowly walked up to his desk. He looked up at her.

“What is it? What did you find?” She held on to her tablet when she spoke.

“Sir, I found a film. It shows your brother. I watched it. I am not sure you should. I am already tracing IP and we are on it.” His eyes darkened.

“Show me, Anthea. He is my brother and I need to know.” Reluctantly she handed over her tablet and showed him.

Afterwards, he had to blow his nose. She gently placed her palm on his shoulder.

“We will find him.” She assured him and he nodded. Angrily he wiped over his eyes.

“You keep on tracking this with your team. I will find someone who will bid for him.” Her eyes widened but soon she agreed.

“Any idea who?” She asked.

“Not yet, no.” He shook his head. They looked at each other and suddenly thought the same.

“I will do it. I am not a public person. No one knows we are related.” Mycroft thinly smiled.

“I trust you, Anthea. Both with my life and with Sherlock's. I will arrange a non-limit card for you. Go and register at once.” He sounded excited and alert.

“Sir, I need the card first.” She said and Mycroft started to rummage through his desk. After a few seconds, he found what he was looking for and offered it to her.

“There you are.” It was a platinum card and she stared at him.

“You have this in your desk?” She asked raising a brow.

“It's for emergency only. It can't be traced back to Whitehall or me. The name isn't real but if they check it, they will find a stinking rich man from Albania behind it. There are several stories online about him and also a criminal record is provided.”

“Why didn't I know about this?” She asked a bit darkly.

“You don't know everything, Anthea. But I promise to give you a proper update after we got Sherlock back.”

“Very well, Sir.” She was a bit annoyed but knew he was right.

Mycroft stood and came around the desk.

“I'll go and talk to Gregory and John. They are still at 221B. I won't tell them you are going to bid for him. I just tell them about a trace we have found.”

“I agree. Dr Watson would want to do something himself. You can only tell him shortly before midnight when the auction ends and keep a close eye on him. I believe he will want to watch it.”

“Absolutely. I want you to stay in this office. It is protected, shielded. Wait for me. Whatever you think you need, get it. I'll cover.” He donned his coat and took his umbrella. The door closed behind him.

Anthea settled at his desk and adjusted the chair. She registered for the auction and was warmly welcomed after her credentials were checked.

She pulled a face reading the email. There were several more bits of the film attached as well as several pictures. They were close-ups from his face and behind. She hoped he would recover from this. She was absolutely convinced about him being rescued. It was her doing the bidding. She would be there to get him. She had all the money needed and would bid always more than anybody else.

Right now, she could watch the amount rise with every minute. Again, and again a bidder offered more than what was just offered a second before. The comments running by the side already showed that they knew who was to be sold.

***

John sat cross-legged on top of Sherlock's bed. He still called it that because he didn't feel like they were an item anymore. He still loved him though. He wanted him back. No, he needed him back to make himself very clear. Sherlock had to understand that his behaviour must change if he wanted him to stay.

He had woken when the activities outside in the living room increased. He had heard Greg on the phone and move around. He was also typing wildly. Something must have come up and he urgently needed to find out what.  
He got up and took a quick shower. He dressed in fresh clothes and left the bedroom. Greg looked up when he appeared.

“John! You must be hungry. There is cold pizza?” But John pulled a face.

“No, thanks. I will throw something together. You want some, too?” John asked and Greg nodded.

“God, please, yes. Thanks, John.” Greg watched him while he prepared a meal for both of them. Just a risotto with vegetables and lamb. At least Greg hoped it was lamb that cooked in the pan.

John brought the plates and sat down with him. He picked up his fork and ate a few bites. He waited for Greg to start eating, too. Only then he started to speak.

“You need to tell me what's going on. I know you have found something. I woke because of your increased activity.” John said. He knew he needed to appear calm and focused, otherwise they wouldn't include him.

“Myc is on his way already. He has some lead on Sherlock but he wants to tell us himself. Be patient for a little longer, he will be here soon.” They locked eyes and after a few seconds, John nodded.

“Would you like dessert, too?” Greg grinned.

“Yes, please. Make a bowl for Myc, too. I am sure he hasn't eaten a thing and you wouldn't get him to eat risotto. But he will eat dessert.” A small smile came up on John's face because he remembered what Sherlock always said about his _big_ brother.

John stood to make a chocolate mousse. Right when he put cream on top, Mycroft opened the door. Greg looked up and a broad smile came up. But after a second it was gone again. Mycroft looked at him and tilted his head. His eyes shone. He shed his coat and placed his umbrella by the door.

“Greg, John.” He acknowledged both men and sat down, too. John brought the dessert and Mycroft simply stared at it.

“You need to eat, Mycroft. Please? I know you like it.” A thin smile showed on his lips.

“I do. Thank you, both of you.” They all started to eat before Mycroft told them anything. John's feelings were in turmoil but he made it. He could throw up later. Now he needed to hear what Mycroft had to tell them.

Mycroft pushed back the bowl and looked at John.

“I really need you to be strong. Anthea has been looking for hours into the matter and she found a trace. There is a film, an auction is taking place. Sherlock is on sale.” John's eyes widened and he swallowed.

“He was investigating human trafficking...” Mycroft nodded.

“And they got to him.” Greg said.

“What is your plan?” John just asked.

“Anthea is bidding for him. Whatever it takes, she will get to him. I provided her with everything. After the successful transaction, she will be given a place and time to meet. She will go and pick up my brother. When he is safely taken away, we will storm in.” John slowly nodded and Greg joined in.

“Sounds like a good plan. But I want to be there, as well.” John seriously said. Mycroft shook his head.

“Not at the pick-up, John. You may join the troops storming in, I'll give you that.” John worried his lips but finally agreed.

“And now show me what Anthea has found. I need to know.” Mycroft shook his head.

“No, you don't.” He sounded very, very serious.

“You can't keep this from us, Mycroft.” Greg was very serious, too. They locked eyes and Mycroft got lost.

“Promise me, you two will stay together. After having watched this, you can't be alone. Do you understand?” Mycroft looked at them. John swallowed but nodded.

“I will keep working from here and stay with John. Don't worry about us.” Greg said.

“Give me your tablet, Gregory.” Greg raised a brow being called Gregory. No one ever called him Gregory. But he just handed it over. Since Mycroft had provided him with this piece of technic, it was also secured and safe to work on. He pulled up the site and at first showed them the auction announcement. He had already saved the video and let it run. He stood and made a few steps away. He watched both men watching the film.

He saw how Gregory paled beneath his permanent tan. He saw John biting his lips bloody. After it was over, there were tears on his face and he angrily wiped over his eyes. His hands were shaking and Greg looked up at him.

“I trust you, John, not to do anything stupid.” Mycroft quietly said coming closer again. John's head shot up.

“Like what? The only thing I want to do is join your troops when storming into their place. I want a weapon. I want to kill them all.” His blue eyes were on fire.

***

After his ordeal, Sherlock was taken off the rack and just dropped on the floor. His eyes closed while his limbs uncontrollably shook.

“Get up, bitch!” The Russian yelled and Sherlock tried to get up. He ended up on all fours breathing hard.

“Now that's just perfect.” He laughed and clawed into his damp hair. He roughly pulled him over the ground until they reached a cage. He let go and opened the door. He kicked him into his behind and Sherlock just crawled inside and settled. Inside he wasn't able to stand or stretch out. He could just sit and lean against the bars. He also was still wearing the harness and the ball-gag. Sherlock knew better than to touch it.

The Russian left and shut off the lights. Sherlock was left behind and completely surrounded by darkness. The only thing he could see was the red dot blinking on the surveillance camera. He relaxed a little bit leaning heavily against the bars. He closed his eyes and his head lolled to the side.

The only thing he could do was wait. Wait for his brother to rescue him.

He also started to think about John and how he had treated him during the last days, perhaps even weeks. He couldn't even be sure if John still was at 221B. Perhaps he had already lost him.

He knew he had been stupid. John was such a good man, both his best friend and lovable submissive. He dearly loved him and never told him. Unlike John who never held back.

If he would survive this, he swore to himself he would tell him. He would also tell him sorry and treat him much better. He would do anything needed. He would even bottom for him. He knew that John would like that, he had seen it in his eyes. He would go on a long vacation with him because he knew John needed that and also loved going places.

***

Anthea successfully ended the auction with her being the buyer. She had overbid everyone. She had also noted everybody's IP. They would arrest every single bidder very soon but first, they had to go and get Sherlock out of there.

She alerted Mycroft who in turn alerted his troops. He still was with Greg and John. He just couldn't have left. Somehow, he felt like he needed to be close to Gregory. He was very much attracted to him and Gregory seemed to return his feelings.

Both John and Greg looked excited now that Anthea had won the bidding. She had called Mycroft who was talking to her.

“Have they confirmed the transaction?” Mycroft just asked and John had to close his eyes. Greg's fingers closed around his wrist.

“I see. Some more hours. Prepare properly. Get Mike from security as your body-guard. Do not go alone, do you hear me?” He listened again.

“Very well done, my dear. Keep me informed.” He hung up and turned to John and Greg.

“Anthea has been given time and place for the collection. She will be joined by my most trusted man and pick up Sherlock. The moment she is gone, the troops will storm the place and every identified bidder will be arrested.” Greg looked very pleased but John looked right into his eyes.

“You don't really expect me to make an arrest on site, do you?” He asked.

“No, I don't.” He said nothing more.

***

Sherlock got roughly pulled out of the cage. They took the harness and ball-gag off and he was given some water and a dry cookie. He took both; he wasn't stupid.

“Someone paid a very large sum for you, Mr Holmes. You should be proud.” The Russian laughed.

“Get him cleaned up and dressed into something. Leave the collar.” They brought him into a bath where they leant him against the tiles and showered him cold. He enjoyed it anyway because he was dirty, sweaty, and disgustingly smelly. It also woke him up a bit. He still hoped to be rescued and needed to be awake.

They gave him trackpants, only trackpants. Sherlock didn't mind, it was better than nothing. His hands got tied on his lower back and he was brought into another room. They forced him on his knees and told him to lower his head.  
The Russian checked his watch and then looked at his accomplice.

“She should be here any minute. There will be one man as security by her side. We have already received the money. Just hand him over and we will be gone.” The other man rubbed his hands and both grinned.  
It knocked and another man led two people inside. Sherlock's eyes were glued to the floor. He heard footsteps and they were getting close.

“Welcome!” The Russian exclaimed.

“Whatever. Is that him? Will there be scars?” A female voice asked and Sherlock had a lot to do not to twitch. It was Anthea speaking. He closed his eyes.

“No, we know what we are doing. There won't be any scars. The welts will show for a while though. Here, this is the key for the collar.” It was handed over.

“Very good. Mike, pick him up and get him into my car. We are done here.” A strong hand grabbed his arm and he stood on still shaking legs. He still didn't look up just in case his eyes would betray him.

“Have fun with him!” The Russian said instead of a good-bye. Anthea looked at him.

“I sure will.” She pleasantly smiled and followed Mike and Sherlock. They didn't speak until they sat in a black sedan. He was moved into the back and sat beside Anthea. Mike sat behind the wheel and rather quickly rode away.

“Sherlock, do you need anything?” Anthea cut off the rope around his wrists and he carefully shook out his hands and arms. She placed a blanket over his thin body. Only then he looked at her. He simply shook his head and tears spilt. His lips quivered and again he felt so ashamed. He sobbed and suddenly felt extremely tired.

“You need to drink.” She handed over a bottle with water and opened it for him. He drank and felt a bit better. He stopped crying and focused on her.

“Where are we going?” He asked.

“Private hospital. You need to be checked through. Your back doesn't look good.” Normally he wouldn't agree but he didn't want to have scars.

“Where is my brother?” What he really wanted to ask was where John was.

“He is coordinating the arrests.” Sherlock hummed. He was bone-tired and his eyes drooped.

“Don't fall asleep. We are almost there.” Mike had to help him into the hospital where he was placed on an examination table. Anthea wanted to leave the room but Sherlock snatched her hand.

“Don't leave me. Please?” Anthea was surprised but stayed with him during all the exams. Some of them made him cry again and she glared at the doctors and nurses. They understood and finally sedated him.

Only then she started to text Mycroft. Of course, Mike had been sending the first text already but no details. A reply came in instantly. Arrests had been made; people were dead. She grinned and relaxed.

She followed Sherlock into his private room. By now he was cleaned up again and wore soft pyjamas and a t-shirt, socks as well. And he slept peacefully. She sat in an armchair and checked her mobile.

***

John was clad in black tactical gear and Greg thought how very attractive that looked. Mycroft looked at Greg and suddenly their eyes met. Greg saw something in them he hadn't expected but it made him smile and he tilted his head. He moved closer to him.

“Jealous much?” He whispered. Mycroft looked away.

“I don't know what you are talking about, Gregory.” He quietly laughed.

Then came the _Go_ and John was actually first inside. A second later shots were fired. It was over soon; the troops were very efficient.

When John came outside, he just handed back his weapon and sat in Greg's car. The commander talked to Mycroft.

“He killed the men who raped your brother, Sir. But first, he questioned them. I have everything recorded. He is very skilled and we could use him.” But Mycroft shook his head. The man just sadly nodded and left.

“Did you hear from Anthea and that Mike?” Greg asked and Mycroft simply handed over his mobile. The move surprised Greg but he took it and read all the texts. He relaxed, Sherlock was alive and in the hospital now.

“May I tell John?” He asked and gave back the mobile. Mycroft nodded and Greg turned away.

“Gregory?” Mycroft stopped him by calling his name. He turned around again.

“Yes?” He questioningly looked at him.

“When everything is back to normal again, would you like to have dinner with me?” He asked hopefully and a broad smile came up on Greg's face.

“Very much so.” He replied and turned around again to join John.

***  
John looked at Greg when he joined him in the car. He sat behind the wheel and started the engine.

“Where are we going?” John asked.

“What do you think?” Greg replied. John looked out of the window.

“How is he?” John quietly asked.

“You saw the film. He is in shock. But he was awake and aware of everything when Anthea picked him up.” John turned his head. He had been taught his fair share in psychology and also learnt a lot while being in Afghanistan. Sherlock needed to talk about it. He would be there for him if he still wanted him. John wasn't sure because of how he had treated him during the last days and weeks.

They reached the private hospital and walked into the elevator. Outside his room stood Mike who at once looked at John.

“Well done, Sir.” John thinly smiled when passing by him. Greg just raised a brow. They quietly entered the room and Anthea turned around typing on her mobile.

“DI Lestrade, Dr Watson. He is asleep.” She whispered and gestured for Greg to follow her outside. He cast a look at Sherlock but followed her. John was approaching the bed and took the folder with the medical documentation. Blood pressure, heartbeat and pulse were still a bit high but not dangerously so. The injuries in his behind had been treated. They didn't have to sew him up but he was raw and digesting wouldn't be fun for a while. The welts on his back wouldn't leave scars.

John closed his eyes and relaxed just a little bit. He replaced the folder and got a bit closer. Sherlock looked hellish. He was paler than ever and his cheekbones stood out. Even though it hadn't been long, he had lost weight. John worried his lips and gently took his hand. He twitched and made a sound. His head moved over the pillow and his eyes slowly blinked open.

“John...” The hurt in his eyes almost broke John's heart.

***

Sherlock was grateful Anthea stayed. He climbed into bed and covered himself with the blanket. He closed his eyes and knew she was there and would protect him. He fell asleep. The medication helped; he was knocked out quickly.

He slept for a few hours but woke when feeling something. His hand was held and he smelled something he knew. He tried to wake up and forced his eyes open. He blearily blinked the sleep away and finally focused on the man beside the bed.

“John...” He croaked out his name and coughed. John was here. And he held his hand. He hadn't left. He felt all the love he had for him.

But then he pulled his hand away. Surely, he was just here to tell him that he couldn't be with him anymore. What had been done to him, what he had done, had been too much. He cast his eyes.

“Sherlock, drink the water, please.” John said and offered a mug. Sherlock didn't look at him but drank.

“Look at me, please?” John said and very carefully Sherlock looked up to face him. Slowly John reached out and caressed his face. Sherlock burst into tears at once. John just smiled and kept stroking his fingers over his cheekbones.

“Why are you even here? After how I treated you? After what happened to me? How can you even touch this?” He sobbed and John could hear he was about to hyperventilate.

“Come down, please. I am here because I love you. Yes, you treated me like shit and I didn't like it. But I still love you, nothing changes that. Nothing, do you hear me? You will come home with me and we will talk. I have to feed you up. I will take care of you. But only if you want me to.” Sherlock had listened and couldn't believe what he had heard.

“I want to go home...” He whispered.

“Not tonight. You have to stay overnight but I think we can leave tomorrow morning.” Sherlock at once felt a bit better and only now had a real close look at John.

“Why are you dressed like a soldier?” He asked and only then saw the bloodstains on the carabineers and even some on John's neck and ears and in his hair. He reached out for him and his long finger moved over the side of his head.

“This isn't your blood, is it?” He asked. John shook his head.

“No, it's not.” He said nothing more and Sherlock didn't insist. He had an idea of what happened. John took his hand off his face and smiled.


End file.
